Never did Reny Stark, notorious hit man for the New York City gangs, think that he would, right out in broad daylight, brazenly walk into the NYPD to turn himself in. He must be nuts. Thinking that was the case, he turned on his heels sharply, and headed for the front door.
When Ric saw him going the other way, he turned and caught him by the arm.
“I ain’t crazy, Ric. I ain’t doin’ this.”
“Reny, please. You know this is the right thing…” Ric continued to talk to Reny in a quiet, soothing voice as he slowly led him up to the counter where a uniformed officer was answering the phone, and shuffling a stack of forms.
He looked up. “Yes. Can I help you?”
“We need to see…a detective, I think.”
“What for? Theft, burglary, murder? What?”
“We’re reporting a murder.”
“I see,” he said, and pi
